


Astraphobia

by Asdrator



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, background Azelle/Tailtiu, no heterosexual explanation for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asdrator/pseuds/Asdrator
Summary: A series of chapters set within the same story, which is an au aiming for a (somewhat) happy ending for the Frieges and those they love.
Relationships: Asaa | Arthur/Sety | Ced, Ishtar/Olwen (Fire Emblem), Ishtore (Fire Emblem)/Liza (Fire Emblem), Teeny | Tine/Phee | Fee
Comments: 12
Kudos: 14





	1. Sage of Melgen

_ Jugdral, 773 _

The birds chirped in a small forest within the Duchy of Friege, where sunlight shone filtered through the trees and a gentle breeze blew lightly. A young officer named Liza walked through this place, a generally annoyed but resigned look on her face. “That prince… I heard he likes to get himself into trouble, but this…!” She let out a heavy sigh of frustration and ran her hand through her hair. No use thinking about that now. She could save that for later; after all, Prince Ishtore wouldn’t find himself.

After what felt like an hour but was probably just some minutes of searching, she stumbled upon a small clearing near the center of the forest. Close to the middle of the clearing was a tree that stood slightly higher than the rest- an older one, perhaps. Sticking out most prominently from the tree were two long, sturdy branches, pointing in opposite directions. Atop the branch to her right sat Ishtore himself, dressed very casually and reading a book. He looked handsome in the sunlight, Liza had to admit. There was no way she was going to let herself fall for some prince though, especially not some lazy brat who skipped his studies. “Prince Ishtore!” She shouted, startling him and making him drop his book. “Get down from there, you could hurt yourself!”

“Be easy on my ears, will you?” Ishtore grumbled, looking forlornly down at his book. “It’s nothing worth shouting over, I’m just relaxing.”

“With all due respect, Prince Ishtore,” By which she meant exactly none. “You’re currently missing your studies and causing your mother a lot of worry.” Though, even from their brief interactions, she liked that woman even less. “I feel like that’s a perfectly acceptable reason to shout at you, and I’m sure your parents will see it the same way.”

Ishtore’s face only darkened hearing that. “Do me a favor. Don’t mention those two while we’re here. This is the only place I can get away from their rot, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Liza flinched as his words shocked her as though a jolt of electricity.

“...My apologies, Prince Ishtore.” She did mean it, too. Whatever the problem was between him and his parents, it wasn’t her business to intrude on. “That said, will you please get down from there and come back with me? You need to study, for your own good, if nobody else’s.”

Instead of immediately answering, Ishtore simply looked out into the sky, and for a moment Liza thought he was ignoring her. Feeling much more irritated than before, she started walking towards the tree, ready to give him a piece of her mind. “Prince Ishtore-“

“Why don’t you climb up here with me, if you’re so concerned about my safety? There’s another branch.” He finally asked, stopping her in her tracks out of sheer confusion.

“Huh? What?”

“Oh, and, bring my book up too, if you will. I was in the middle of a really good part when you arrived.”

To make sure she wasn’t trapped in some dream (or nightmare), Liza picked up the book and immediately threw it at him, hitting him square in the head. The book fell to the ground once more as the prince hissed in pain. “What in Naga’s name was that about?!”

“Ah, sorry. Reflex.”

“Right, reflex, sure.” Liza could practically feel him rolling his eyes. “Anyways, the offer still stands. Come join me, if you’re not a scaredy cat.” She felt him grinning down at her mischievously, and her cheeks burned. Lady Hilda might be a little upset, but Duke Bloom would understand, surely. There was no way she could just let the prince have this.

“Fine, have it your way.” Liza sighed, picking up the book and handing it to him reluctantly. Then, placing a foot firmly against the tree, she gripped a handhold higher up, climbing a few steps and reaching higher openings steadily before leaping onto the other branch, which she sat down on with her legs dangling towards the ground. Looking over in his direction triumphantly, she met disappointment as she realized that neither of them could see each other.

“My, my. You’re an athletic one, aren’t you?” Ishtore laughed, which only made her more confused. “It took me forever to get up here when I first found this place a few years ago, yet here you are, doing it on your first try.”

“it was luck, that’s all.”

“I don’t believe you.” He was right, but she would never admit that she had loved climbing trees so much when she was younger that now it came naturally to her. “You are, however, very interesting to me.” Liza heard him close his book. “Your name is Liza, right?” She blinked, unable to believe what she had just heard for a moment. “...That’s right. How did you find that out?”

“I doubt you know this, but I help with management of the security of the castle. Security means knowing who usually comes in and out, their schedules, their habits, and of course their names.” He came into her view again as he swung around, his legs dangling from the branch as he leaned forward. Liza considered warning him that he was placing himself in more danger than was permissible, but she already knew he wouldn’t listen, especially since she was doing the same. “Of course, all that information is stored securely in here.” Ishtore tapped the side of his head with a smile. “So of course, when I learned that the cousin of the rising military star Reinhardt had been admitted as an officer at an unusually young age… well, how would I not remember her name? Especially when she’s the same age as me.”

That really caught Liza by surprise. As far as she was aware, few except Reinhardt himself and her direct superiors knew that she was related to the legendary young officer, yet here was the prince of all people having already learned this. Ishtore looked over at her with his head resting against his hand, seemingly studying her. “I can tell from your reaction that you’re both surprised to know that I know this, and hoping that I keep it a secret.”

Once again, he had managed to catch her off guard. “I… yes, I would much prefer that. I’d rather rise on my own merits than those of my cousin.”

With a nod, Ishtore grinned and clapped his hands together. “You have nothing to fear. My lips are sealed tighter than the purse of a Miletos merchant.” He seemed to consider something for a moment, and then his eyes lit up with excitement. “Though, in exchange, would you consider being my friend?”

Today was full of surprises for Liza it seemed. “ _ What? _ ”

“Haven’t had one, a real one at least, since that funny rascal Julius.” And here the prince was referring to the crown prince of the entire realm casually enough that it’d get most other people executed. Even through her shock, Liza couldn’t help but notice that there was a sort of sad edge to his expression just after he brought Julius up. However, it was gone as soon as it had appeared. “Ishtar doesn’t really count, and much as I love hanging out with Tine for her own sake as well as for how much it irritates mother, Tine’s gotten it into her head that if she distances herself from me, somehow it’ll spare me mother’s displeasure.” As Ishtore turned to her with a bright smile, it was clear to her that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know it’s a little sudden for somebody you’ve just met, but what do you say?”

“...As enjoyable as that would be, Prince Ishtore, I am very likely to get assigned elsewhere once command figures out where to put me. I don’t think it would be wise to form such a bond.”

“Then I’ll get you assigned as my bodyguard. Simple as can be.”

“Are you sure?!” For a moment, Liza’s excitement at the prospect of such a promotion got the better of her, and it showed in her voice. “Ah, I mean, is that wise, Prince Ishtore? Surely somebody more experienced is better suited to the role; I’ve never even seen combat.”

“Everybody starts somewhere, and I need somebody I can trust more than I need somebody to fight for me.” He replied without hesitation.

“But I’m not worthy-“

“Naga’s sake, Liza, just accept! All I want is to have a friend my age, it’s not that hard a job.” Ishtore groaned, leaping down to the ground and landing flawlessly. “The position is open anyway, so get back to me with your answer-“ The crackle of thunder interrupted them, and they realized that in the time they’d spent there the clear sky had been replaced by a thunderstorm, a frequent occurrence in the Friege dukedom. Rain began to pour, covering Ishtore immediately. “Ishtore!” Liza called out. “Get out of the rain!” She leaped down, but was hesitant to approach him, realizing that she’d said his name without his title.

A few moments passed, then, “Why?” He asked with a smile that finally, at last, was full of a genuine happiness. “It might be raining, but it’s not raining at all, you know? This storm made a friend of mine finally call me the only title that matters between friends: my name.”

The kindness lurking behind his smile, and the honesty and warmth of his eyes as he looked back at her, made her realize something that changed everything. “Race you back to the castle, Liza!” He said as he turned away and took off.

“Pr- Ishtore!” Liza shouted back as she chased after him, finally giving in to saying his name alone. “Stop endangering yourself!”

She had fallen in love with a prince. A wild, brilliant, shining prince, and more importantly, her friend as of today.

Naga, she really was hopeless, wasn’t she?

—————————————————————

_ Jugdral 775 _

The din of battle roared around Ishtore as he cast spell after spell, electrifying all foes who dared approach him, their corpses falling inevitably around him. He and Liza had been dispatched here with a force of Friege soldiers to suppress a rebellion by peasants in the manster District, near the city of manster itself. It was a shame that they weren’t permitted to negotiate with the rebel army, but such was life in service to the Empire that the Loptyrians ruled in all but name. Even so, as he wiped sweat from his brow, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe…

“Ishtore! Look out!” A scream began and quickly ended near him, and he looked over to see that a man had tried to attack him in his distraction, only to have his life cut short by a spell from Liza, who stood on the other side of the dying man.

Despite himself, even in the midst of a battle, Ishtore could only look at Liza with awe, at her armor covered with scratches and her unusually dishevelled hair and the blood that most certainly wasn’t hers staining her arms and armor and even her face. Even now, especially now, she was beautiful to him.

Naga, he was in love.

“What are you staring at? Come on, Ishtore, we have to get back to the battle.” Liza turned away, returning to the casting of the lightning magic that they were both so deadly in the use of. Not as deadly as Ishtar had become, perhaps, but remarkable in their own right. Nodding to himself, he continued to fight himself, until at last the rebel ranks broke.

After the battle, in his quickly prepared tent, Ishtore steadily completed paperwork, mainly for those Friege soldiers killed in action. Too many dead on both sides, really, by which he meant ‘any at all’, but that was war. There was no helping it, though that didn’t stop him from increasingly feeling like he was on the wrong side of it.

“May I come in, sir?” It was Brighton, one of manster’s finest knights, who had been attached to Ishtore’s forces to assist with suppressing the rebellion.

“Of course, Brighton. Any time.” Ishtore smiled as the man entered; he was a good, honorable knight, and it was always enjoyable having him around. “What can I help you with?”

“I intend to resign my position, both with your army and as a knight of Manster.” 

For once, it was Ishtore caught by surprise. “Really? Now why would you do that?” He asked, frowning.

“You know why.” Brighton had never been one for telling lies he didn’t need to, and Ishtore could tell from the disappointment and disgust clear in the other man’s eyes that he did, in fact, know.

“I see.” Ishtore leaned back in his chair with a sigh, setting his pen down. “I can’t say I blame you for wanting to. Nothing we’ve done today is justifiable, if I’m being entirely honest, and I can’t imagine how much worse it is for you, with the rebels being the very people you serve to protect. Go, Brighton, by all means. I just hope we never have to face each other in battle.”

Now it was Brighton who looked shocked. “Prince Ishtore… why does somebody like you stay loyal to an Empire like this?”

It was only with difficulty that Ishtore managed a smile in response. “Because I have people I need to protect as well.”

Liza entered just after Brighton had left, and Ishtore’s saddened expression immediately lit up. “Ah! Liza, always a pleasure to see you. If you’ve come to tell me to be more careful, then-“

“Why didn’t you tell me you got invited to govern Melgen?” She asked, her voice even and unrevealing of her feelings on the matter.

It was just one thing after another. “I was planning to do so after I accepted the appointment. I assume my mother told you?” At Liza’s nod, he continued. “She’s always had a knack for finding a use for other people’s secrets, especially to their detriment. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, though, how about it? Do you want to go with me? You’ve made enough of a name for yourself now that you could advance easily even without working under me.”

“To be entirely honest, Ishtore, I would sooner follow you into the Yied Desert itself than leave your side.” Liza replied without a hint of hesitation.

That put a smile on Ishtore’s face. “I’m glad to hear that. I don’t know if I could have managed on my own. Then, if you’re sure, I have something I need to say to you, Liza.”

“And what might that be?”

Ishtore stood up from his desk and reached out a hand to caress her cheek. She was slightly taller than him now, more muscular. They had both changed a lot over the past two years. Even so, she only became more and more beautiful to him.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The words struck her, not a lightning bolt but a sweet melody, and she stared wide eyed in disbelief. “Did I hear you right?”

For a moment, Ishtore’s heart skipped a beat and he drew back his hand. “If it discomforts you, it is alright for us to never speak of this-“

“No, that’s not it, Ishtore.” Liza said breathlessly. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I just can’t believe you love me.”

His smile returned immediately. “I’ll say it as many times as it takes for you to believe it.”

“No need.” That was when she placed her hand against his cheek and drew him into a kiss.

When it broke, they stared into each other’s eyes lovingly, out of breath. Finally, “You really are… my favorite person in the world.”

“Really? I thought that was Tine.” Liza teased.

“I can have more than one favourite.” Ishtore replied, rolling his eyes with an amused smile. “Surely you can’t make me choose between you two.”

“I certainly won’t- because I love you.”

“Liza, let’s keep falling in love with each other again.”

“Of course. Until the end of time, Ishtore.”

—————————————————————

_ Jugdral, 777 _

It was raining again, even though the sky was clear as could be.

No matter how many times he repeated it to himself, no matter how many tears he shed, it was impossible to accept that she was dead. Yet it was fact, so his acceptance of it was irrelevant. At least he knew who was responsible, thanks to a soldier of his who had survived the battle.

All that remained was revenge.

As Ishtore sat upon his simple throne in the court of Melgen, empty except for him, a battle raged outside the door, where his last remaining soldiers attempted to fight off the intruder. He had told them to flee, but their loyalty to him was too great. Such pointless deaths.

At last the sounds quieted, and Ishtore realized who the intruder must be from the electrified feeling in the air.

The doors burst open and in walked his long lost cousin Arthur, a determined look on his face. “Are you the one they call the ‘Sage of Melgen’?” Arthur asked, a hint of confusion to his voice.

“And what if I were?” Ishtore replied, waving his hand dismissively. That title had been given to him by the people he ruled over. Better than being called ‘prince’, at least.

“I’d say your tyranny is at an end, but you are clearly no tyrant by the way those men were willing to die to protect you. So then why do you-“

“Why do I serve the Empire, you ask?” Ishtore cut in. He stood up from his throne, beginning to walk slowly towards Arthur, causing his cousin to flinch slightly. “Because I have irreplaceable people I need to protect. Isn’t that a good enough reason?” He stopped walking, and looked towards Arthur with open, furious eyes. “But you stole one of those people from me, didn’t you?” Liza, Liza, oh, Liza. Even thinking of her hurt. “Now you’ll pay for that  _ with your life. _ ”

When he leaped towards Arthur, a lightning bolt ready in his hand, Arthur deftly stepped out of the way, and a crackling missile shot from his hand. Managing to avoid being burnt, Ishtore called into existence darts of electricity that shot forth towards Arthur at once. Though he dodged most of them, Arthur was struck in the shoulder by a single one, and blood trickled out of the wound as he fell to his knees and cried out from the pain.

Drawing a dagger he kept at his side from its sheath, Ishtore ran at Arthur. “Now you die, murderer!”

“Ishtore, wait!”

That voice, it couldn’t be… yet it was. Ishtore dropped his dagger and turned to see the source, only to find Liza standing at the entrance of the hall. “...Liza?” He shook his head. “No, this must be some manner of illusion, some attempt to fool me. I won’t fall for it, I won’t-“

“I’m real, Ishtore, and I’m here.” She managed a small smile as she walked towards him. “Reports of my death were… exaggerated, to say the least.”

“...How did you survive? I heard you suffered a direct hit.”

“My injuries were severe, but a healer of the rebel army, Lana, treated me at the order of their leader, Seliph.” She wrapped her arms around Ishtore, embracing him, and after a few moments, he returned it, weeping with relief. “Oh, Ishtore, I-“

“This is sweet and all, but do either of you have any bandages?” Arthur asked through gritted teeth. “I’m in a lot of pain and this was what I came to tell you in the first place, except then your men attacked me.”

“Ah, my sincerest apologies, cousin. I just thought…” Suddenly feeling very embarrassed, Ishtore stopped talking and went over to Arthur’s side, tearing off part of one of the sleeves of his robe, before wrapping it around Arthur’s arm to staunch the bleeding. “Just… try not to use that arm too much.”

“Great, thanks.” Sarcasm practically dripped from Arthur’s voice and he rolled his eyes, before getting up and walking as best he could out of the hall. “I’ll go tell Lord Seliph that Melgen is ours now. Try not to let me down, cousin.”

As the doors shut behind Arthur, Ishtore and Liza turned back to each other. “Forgive me for saying this, Ishtore, but… you’ve always said we’re on the wrong side of the war, right? I think this rebellion has a real chance of winning. They have holy weapons and blood on their side as well, not to mention the support of the people.”

“So you think we should join them, huh?” Ishtore considered this, drumming his fingers against the side of his head. Liza had always had good judgement, but… “What about Ishtar and Tine? I can’t just abandon them.”

“We won’t be abandoning either of them.” Liza told him, shaking her head. “It’ll just be easier to get them to join the rebellion too without the Loptyr cultists breathing down our necks. Well? What do you say? Whatever your decision is, I’ll stand by it.”

“You’re too good to me, Liza.” Ishtore grinned fondly. “Very well, let’s meet with this ‘Lord Seliph’ and see if he will accept us as members of his army.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will. The people love him, and the people love you. You’re a match made in heaven.”

“If you’re not the match heaven made for me, then that’s no heaven of mine.”

“You’re so corny.”

They laughed, and for once a peaceful moment passed between them.

“I want to stay by your side, Ishtore.”

“We’ll be together until there’s no rain left in the sky. You deserve that much.”


	2. Little Spark of Hope

_ Jugdral, 771 _

“Hello, mother. Are you well?”

Tine stood in the doorway to her mother’s room, holding a tray of food and trying to not let her hands shake too much. Every time, every single time she came to her mother like this, she felt like some prison guard coming to feed a prisoner. And for what purpose? To extend her mother’s suffering?

What was the point of her existence, except to make others suffer?

“Oh, Tine! I’m sorry, I must not have heard you. Please, come in.” A series of heavy coughs followed, the figure in the bed out of breath just from that. “Please just set my food on the beside table. I’ll eat it later.” A lie. Even at this age, Tine knew how to see through lies, at least in part because of how many were told in this household. It was clear to her that Tailtiu wouldn’t be eating anything tonight. Tine didn’t mention this to her mother, however; what would be the point? She most likely couldn’t eat anything, rather than wouldn’t, and Hilda refused to let any healer come close to her. Showing concern would just cause trouble for her mother.

Tine’s existence caused trouble enough, as her Aunt Hilda made sure to remind her every day. What else was new?

“Of course, mother.” She set the tray down on the bedside table, and had turned to leave when Tailtiu weakly caught her arm

“Please, Tine. Stay with me.” Mother’s grip was weak, but Tine knew that she was actually holding on with all her might.

At a time like this, with somebody who cared for her as mother did, how could Tine refuse a request like that?

After a brief moment of hesitation, Tine turned back to her mother and gave her a big hug, trying not to cry.

“A good girl… Tine, you’re such a good girl…” Tailtiu murmured in her ear, stroking her hand down Tine’s back. “I love you very much, you know. Don’t forget that. Don’t ever forget that.” When at last they let go of each other, Tailtiu leaned forward and gave Tine a warm kiss on her forehead. “When you see your brother, one day, let him know for me that I love him too, to the moon and back.”

“You tell me that every time I see you, mother.” Tine’s voice quivered as she unconvincingly tried to sound cheerful. “You don’t need to, you know? You’re bound to get better eventually, and then you can leave and go tell him yourself.” A lie. Tine had told a lie to both her mother and herself. She was so good at seeing through lies that she could see the truth even when she didn’t want to. What was the point of that? To live in suffering instead of bliss? 

Then Tailtiu did the one thing Tine hated most about these conversations. She turned to Tine, with her gaunt face with heavy bags under her eyes, and gave Tine the brightest, warmest smile that she had ever seen. It was a smile that haunted her.

It was a lie. It had to be. In this house, what cause existed worth being happy about?

“Of course, Tine. You aren’t getting rid of me so soon. Even so, in case you see your brother first, tell him that. I doubt he gets told it enough so it’d mean a lot to me. Will you promise me again tonight too?” There was no way Tine could say no to those tired eyes and that gentle smile. Who could, save for those with a steeled heart (Uncle Bloom being a perfect example) or those without any human heart at all (the only person Aunt Hilda had ever felt anything for was her own reflection in the mirror).

So, instead, she gave her best smile and nodded. “Yes, mother. If that’s what you wish, then I promise.” Her hair was ruffled by her mother’s skeletal hand, and Tailtiu giggled at the face her daughter made.

In an instant, however, the giggles turned into coughs, and the coughs turned up blood. Instinctively, Tine took a step closer, unable to hide her worry, but Tailtiu kept her away with her free hand. This had happened before, and then Tailtiu said that she simply didn’t want to stain the pretty dress Tine was wearing with blood. Even so, it hurt, to be able to see what was happening, that her mother was  _ dying _ , and be unable to comfort her, much less help her.

Bloom rushed into the room, most likely having been informed of what was happening by one of the guards he always posted to listen in on them. He shoved Tine out of the way, nearly causing her to fall over, and passed a towel to Tailtiu for her to cough into. “Here,” He said, his tone as cold and unforgiving as ever. “I’d hate for those sheets to become filthy.” Here, Uncle Bloom lied as he always did when talking to mother, when he lied about thinking she was a worthless traitor and a disgrace to the family name. Did he do that for Aunt Hilda’s sake, Tine wondered, or to make it easier for Tailtiu to hate her own brother? It likely wasn’t the former, given how much Aunt and Uncle detested each other, and if it was the latter it wasn’t working, because mother was always disappointed in Uncle Bloom, but she had never hated him, not once. 

When at last the coughing subsided, and Tailtiu lay down on her bed to rest some more, somehow looking even more sick and exhausted than before, Bloom finally turned back to Tine. A flicker of regret, pity, and something else- hope, it looked like, except she had never known Uncle Bloom to be hopeful about anything- passed through his eyes, and he took her by the hand led her out of the room, firmly but carefully, as though he was afraid she’d break too. “As you’re well aware, your mother is very sick right now. Let us leave, and give her some time to rest and regain her strength before you see her again.” 

Tine looked back at her mother one last time before Bloom closed the door. “Please don’t die.” She whispered under her breath. If Bloom heard her, he gave no indication of it.

Once Bloom let go of her, to go back to doing whatever endless paperwork he always did at this time of night, a sudden chill went down Tine’s spine, the sort that made her almost too afraid to breathe. Looking for what was making her feel afraid, she saw Aunt Hilda glowering at her from down a hallway. In the next instant, Hilda turned away, and the feeling was gone, leaving nothing in its wake. That, Tine realized, was the feeling of true killing intent. For a moment, Aunt Hilda had dropped all pretense of not wanting her dead, though whether it was intentional or an accident, Tine might never know. When she finally felt like she could move again, she practically ran back to her own room, tears dripping out of her eyes.

Had she known that that would be the last day she ever saw her mother alive, she might not have been able to hold herself together that day.

What in the world had she done to the gods to deserve any of this?

—————————————————————

_ Jugdral, 775 _

“Hello again, mother. I know we speak every week, but I always like talking to you even if you don’t respond anymore.”

A warm breeze passed through the air, a comforting blanket that came and went. Tine kneeled in front of Tailtiu’s grave while Ishtore sat at her side, cross legged. Ishtar watched them both from afar. She never knew why Ishtar did that; it was as though she were afraid of being with them, as though it would get them hurt. It did not matter, ultimately. Just the fact that Ishtar wanted to watch over her, to keep her from getting hurt, was enough. And in the end, the visit was about mother, not anyone else.

“I still haven’t made any new friends. Well, that’s not true. I have been becoming closer to Ishtore’s lover Liza.” A pause, and Tine blinked in surprise while Ishtore suppressed a laugh. “Oh! I forgot to tell you, silly me. When Ishtore returned from Manster this week, he announced that he and Liza were in love. Big surprise, huh? Everybody had it figured out already except for him.” Ishtore pinched her cheek and she giggled. “Aunt Hilda wasn’t too pleased, but I’m sure to Ishtore that was just a bonus to falling in love with Liza, not that he needed any.” A silent moment passed as Tine considered what to say next. “Oh, he also accepted that offer he got before to rule over the town of Melgen. Isn’t that amazing? A lot is changing in his life, and quickly. I know you would be so proud of him.”

The air stilled, and Tine let out a small sigh. “I hope you’re proud of me too. Sometimes I wonder, sometimes I’m afraid. Afraid that you’d be disappointed in me, for whatever reason.”

“Every time, though, I figure that can’t be right, because that’s not the kind of person you were. You were always so kind to me, and to Ishtar and Ishtore, even when you had every right not to be. So I just… wanted to let you know that. You were and always will be a good mother, so don’t ever forget that.” How strange. It seemed that this time, the roles were reversed. Instead of being reassured while feeling dead inside, she was trying to instead reassure someone who lived on in every way except the flesh.

When a painful quietness ensued, Ishtore tapped her on the shoulder with a sympathetic smile. “Hey, why not tell her about your plans for the future?”

“Oh, that’s right!” Tine said, clapping her hands together with her voice full of excitement. “Thanks for reminding me, Ishtore. I’m moving to Melgen too, to live under Ishtore and Liza’s care. I’ve always wanted to see more of the world, and more importantly, it’ll get me away from Aunt Hilda. I will have to stop seeing you and Ishtar for a while, but that’s alright. I’m certain that I’ll be able to speak with you like this again one day.”

Smiling bittersweetly at the gravestone, Tine stood up and patted the dirt off of her dress, with Ishtore getting up beside her, and they walked back to Ishtar together in silence.

“Do you think she heard me?” Tine asked when they reached Ishtar again.

Though she seemed hesitant to answer, Ishtar finally answered. “I think she always hears you, Tine.” She told her quietly. “You’re a wonderful daughter. I’m sure she loves to watch over you from the heavens.”

Hearing that made Tine feel a little better about leaving. “Then, shall we head back and say our goodbyes?” Ishtore asked.

“Yes, right away. Melgen awaits us, after all. Oh, and one more thing.” When she had Ishtar and Ishtore’s attention, she took hold of their hands and squeezed them.

“I love you both so much. So for my sake, if not any other reason, please stay safe no matter what.”

Both of them promised.

Ishtar lied.

Why did Ishtar lie?

—————————————————————

_ Jugdral 778 _

It was done. She had done it.

Hilda was dead, and Tine had killed her.

It was, in any sense of the word, justice, yet Tine couldn’t but still feel horrified looking at the charred corpse on the ground. It was not her first, it probably wouldn’t be her last, and it was entirely deserved, but something about killing family, even if not related by blood, made her feel strange.

Had this been how mother had felt about causing the death of grandfather in the stories Tine had heard whispered between servants of House Friege when they thought she wasn’t listening?

There was one important way in which this was different from the path her mother had taken. Tailtiu had joined Sigurd’s army to get away from her family.

Tine had joined Seliph’s army to save her family from itself.

“Tine! Are you alright?!” Tine barely had any time to react to the voice when she was wrapped in a hug from behind by Fee, who continued without waiting for an answer. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re ok. When you got separated from us I got so scared, you know. How are-“

“Ah, sorry to interrupt Fee, but could you let go? Your arm is pressing against one of my burns.” Hilda had in fact been very capable with her Bolganone tome.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Fee said quickly, her voice panicked. “They aren’t serious, are they?”

“No, not very, fortunately for me.” Hilda had possessed a good aim, but Tine was the faster of the two. It had been close, but she could confidently say her victory had come from skill, not dumb luck.

“It’d still be wise to see a healer.”

“I certainly plan on it. The injuries might not be serious, but the pain is nothing to laugh at.” Tine grimaced. “I’m just waiting for Ishtore to arrive, since this is-  _ was _ his mother. She died in agony, and somebody who understands that sort of loss has to be here to comfort him.”

“Well then I’m staying here with you.” Fee said simply, and although Tine knew that it would be easier to make Ares smile than to change Fee’s mind once she had it made up, she decided to try anyways.

“Are you sure-“

“Doesn’t matter if I’m sure or if it’s wise or any of that. It’s what you’re doing, Tine, so I’m going to be here to help you however I can.” Fee gave her a winning grin, and Tine’s face softened at the sight. She couldn’t lie to herself, not about this.

This was what love felt like.

“Hello, Tine.” Ishtore, without intending to, interrupted the moment happening between the two girls, causing Fee to give him the stink eye. “Huh? What’d I do to you? Anyways, I assume that’s mother over there, Tine?” He pointed to the charred corpse past them.

“That’s her, yes. Do you… need a moment?”

“Ha!” Despite himself, Ishtore couldn’t help laughing. “No, I’m good. Every kindness she ever showed me was an attempt to manipulate me for her own aims. I have no tears to shed on her behalf, though Ishtar may feel differently. I simply came here to congratulate my favorite cousin on doing the whole world a favor.” He ruffled Tine’s hair lovingly, then turned to leave. Even though he had said that… in his posture, his expression, everything, something was off. There existed relief there, and contempt for his mother, but at the same time there was a certain loneliness. It was one that Tine recognized immediately.

“Ishtore!” She shouted after him. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m always there for you!”

Seeming to hesitate a moment, he finally stopped and turned his head to face her, a rare, genuine smile upon it. “Thank you, Tine. I think that, later, I might take you up on that.” He meant it, too. What a relief, Tine thought. “Oh, and one other thing!” He continued as he resumed walking out of the room. “Don’t kiss your girlfriend there  _ too _ much~”

“Wha- how  _ dare _ you!” Fee shouted indignantly even as Ishtore slipped through the doorway. “Tine will kiss whoever she wants!” A very awkward moment passed. “Er, I mean…” Fee mumbled and trailed off, unable to think of a heterosexual explanation for what she had just said.

Giggling at how cute Fee was being, Tine decided to take the initiative, placing a hand on Fee’s cheek and leaning in to kiss her. Fee melted into the kiss immediately, and when they broke apart, they both knew no further words were needed, their undying love for each other already expressed through action.

It was then that it hit Tine that everything was alright, in the end.

She was no longer alone.

She was going to be okay.

She was loved.


	3. Goddess of Thunder

_ Jugdral, 668 _

According to the gossip of the servants, she had been born during the fiercest thunderstorm in a decade. 

She hadn’t understood what that meant at the time, but now she had learned.

Oh, and how magnificent the revelation was! At least, for something that would haunt her throughout the decade to come.

It began when a young Ishtar woke up one morning to discover that she had a large silver mark on her upper arm. She stared at it, fascinated by its sudden appearance and wondering at its meaning. What  _ was _ it? Did it have some special meaning to it? At the time, it seemed like a relatively innocent and harmless symbol, with no indication of the direction it would steer her life in.

However, after getting dressed for the day, she went up to her mother to ask her about it. The look on her mother’s face then was unforgettable: a twisted mixture of surprise, excitement, and  _ greed. _ She told Ishtar to show her, and only grew more ecstatic, exclaiming that it was ‘incredible’ and ‘ _ truly _ major blood.’ What was mother talking about? Was she referring to the holy blood in the stories father sometimes told? Ishtar’s questions only grew in number as they were answered, a great hydra of a puzzle.

Father, the one and only Duke Friege, was called over by mother to see for himself, and though he was similarly excited by whatever he and mother knew about it, there was no greed, no desire in his eyes, only pride. He was proud of her for this, thought better of her because of it.

That was a good thing, right?

The two of them explained to her that she had inherited the major holy blood of Thrud, and would be capable of wielding the Mjolnir with practice. For years, they had been unsure whether she or Ishtore would receive the major mark of Thrud, as they were twins, for whom it was often not clear until later in childhood when the brand began to show. They reached a single conclusion, which turned her world upside down.

As the bearer of the major holy blood of Thrud, and future wielder of the Mjolnir tome, she would be named the official heir of the Duchy of Friege. It had been assumed up until now that Ishtore would receive the major brand, and he had been prepared to receive the title his whole life, while Ishtar had largely been free to do as she pleased, so long as it did not bring shame upon the house. Now, the roles would be reversed, and Ishtar didn’t know what to make if it in the slightest. When Ishtar was finally released by her parents after what felt like hours so that she might process what she had been told, she headed straight for the only person she knew who might understand what she was feeling.

Aunt Tailtiu always gave good advice, after all.

Ishtar entered the room, after finding the door to it unlocked- most likely, mother had forbidden Aunt Tailtiu from locking it, in hopes of something terrible happening to her, no matter how unlikely.

“Who is it?” Tailtiu asked as the door creaked open, smiling kindly after Ishtar came into view. Sitting on Aunt Tailtiu’s lap was Tine, Tailtiu’s daughter and Ishtar’s cousin. Though she was not hurt by mother directly by father’s order, Ishtar knew that Tailtiu was scared to death of mother after having witnessed her hurting Aunt Tailtiu. A hideous situation for a six year old girl to go through, but Ishtar could do nothing about it. “Hello there, Ishtar. What do you need?” Aunt Tailtiu, patting empty space on the bed to invite Ishtar to sit there. As she jumped up and sat next to Aunt Tailtiu, she wondered how mother could ever be so cruel to her, when she had never known Aunt Tailtiu to be unkind to a soul.

“Mother told me that I have holy blood. Major holy blood of Thrud, she said.” Ishtar became hesitant, before taking a deep breath and continuing. “I’m… not sure what to think about it. What do you think, Aunt Tailtiu?”

“I think that’s just wonderful.” Tailtiu replied, a newly bright look in her so tired eyes. “Let me ask you something, though, Ishtar. Are you Ishtar, a descendant of Thrud the holy crusader, or are you Ishtar Tordos Friege?"

The question confused Ishtar. "I'm not both?" She asked, not getting the question. Tailtiu only giggled in response.

"Maybe, maybe not. What matters is, one day, you must choose which of those two identities should represent who you truly are." Tailtiu glanced towards the door, out into the hallway, as if she expected something. Feared something. When nothing appeared, she relaxed a little and turned back to Ishtar, her face now more serious. "Enough of that for now, though. You’ll understand with time, Ishtar. That’s all you need. I have another question for you, though.” At Ishtar’s eager nod, Tailtiu smiled slightly and ran her hand through her niece’s hair. “You’re going to grow up to be a very powerful person, now. What do you plan to do with all that power?”

This question made Ishtar wonder what she even could answer. What would she do with power? She’d never even had to give such a thing a single moment of thought before. “I…” She began, stopping hesitantly before finally reaching a decision. “I want to help people and save everyone I can!” That made Tailtiu’s smile grow wider, and Ishtar could have sworn she saw a hint of longing pass through her aunt’s expression.

“You’re a good girl, Ishtar. That was a great answer. I-“

“What in the world is my daughter doing in your room, you traitorous wretch?” It was mother, storming into the room with her absolute fury clear as day. “Did you lure her in here? You did,  _ didn’t you? _ When I’m done with you, you’ll regret trying to poison her mind with lies.” Hilda raised her hand as if to strike Tailtiu, but Ishtar put herself in the way. “Mother, stop!”

Hilda did stop, for a moment, her hand halting just before reaching Ishtar. Then, her fury became contempt. “Take your cousin, and leave this room now. I don’t want to see either of you here for the rest of the night.”

“But mother-“

“ _ Now. _ ”

There was no arguing with mother, so with tears forming in her eyes, Ishtar took the hands of Tine, who was shaking with fright, and led her off Tailtiu’s lap and out of the room. Hilda followed the two of them to the door, which she slammed shut behind them.

Tine’s sobs as they fled to Ishtar’s room would just be the latest on a long list of things that haunted Ishtar.

The next morning, Ishtar was dressed in the finest outfit available for her by the finest maids of House Friege (which was really quite stiff and impractical, but she didn’t complain, it wasn’t the fault of the servants), and once she had been prepared in full, she was ushered towards the throne room, taking deep breaths to stay calm even as the fateful moment approached. However, nothing could have made her ready for what was to come.

The great twin doors of the Friege throne room, made of the finest wood, were pulled open by the strongest guards in the employ of House Friege, though even for them it was with difficulty. There, an incredible sight greeted Ishtar’s eyes. Servants, petty nobility, and the best and brightest of Friege’s knights were all gathered in the same room, filling the room with their unfamiliar visages and watchful gazes. It was probably meant to show that there was unanimous support for her, as well as give all those with any relation to the castle a chance to welcome her as the heir to Friege. All it accomplished, however, was to make Ishtar more afraid to walk forward, afraid to disappoint them. Yet, when prompted, she walked forward even so.

She did not know why she chose to do that. Perhaps it was because the only thing she feared more than the disappointment of strangers was that she might let her family down.

There was no way Ishtar could ever allow that to happen.

Going at a steady pace, her fine, stifling dress glimmering as she went, she looked ahead, searching for somebody, anybody familiar. In the thrones sat father and mother, their stares telling her wordlessly that they had expectations for her. 

She couldn’t let her parents down.

Ishtore has in the left corner of the room ahead of her. He smiled and gave her a thumbs up with both his hands, only to be made to lower his hands and pulled aside by a servant- presumably, he’d get a light scolding. Just a couple days before, he would have been able to get away with anything short of murder. Funny how that had worked out.

She couldn’t let him down, either.

Finally, despite all her searching, Ishtar couldn’t see Tine and Aunt Tailtiu anywhere. Most likely, mother had forbidden them to come, which was a shame. Tine had spent the whole night in Ishtar’s room, and it was unlikely that she would want to go back to Aunt Tailtiu’s room today even if she were allowed to. As for Aunt Tailtiu… best not to think about what had happened to her last night. Ishtar knew she owed them so much though, for all their kindness.

She couldn’t let the two of them down, as well.

As Ishtar finally reached the steps to the thrones, she kneeled down as her father went down them to stand just above her, and placed a crown on her head.

The crown of the heir to the Duke of Friege.

She couldn’t let anyone down now.

Anyone, that is, except herself.

—————————————————————

_ Jugdral, 774 _

In this world, there was no such thing as love.

Ishtar thought this as she looked out over a battlefield where corpses lay atop corpses, many of them charred and burnt by lightning. Her lightning. Where was love in such an act? There could be none.

May Naga never forgive her for the things she’d done.

“Ah, Princess Ishtar, there you are!” The voice that called out to her was unfamiliar.”I’ve been looking for you all over, and began to fear you’d been hurt.” At last Ishtar turned to see who was speaking to her, to find a dark haired girl with a striking resemblance to General Reinhardt, in the uniform of a mage knight of Friege. She looked to be a couple years younger than Ishtar at most, which likely meant she was still a squire of a true mage knight.

“...And you are?” Without meaning to, Ishtar’s voice came out coldly.

“I am Olwen, younger sister of General Reinhardt, at your service.” If Olwen had taken notice of Ishtar’s tone, she gave no sign of it. A true professional. “He ordered me to come find you so that you might have any injuries treated and be made ready for the next day.”

That made Ishtar smile. Reinhardt really did take good care of her. He was one of her oldest, dearest friends. If there was a world someday where she could tell him that to his face, Ishtar thought she might like to live in it.

“Head back and tell him that I’ll be along in a little while. I… need to think by myself.” She did not, however, live in such a world, and his attempts to help her were mere nuisances, distractions from her desire to be alone.

To not have to hurt people anymore.

It was ridiculous, to be sure; who ever heard of a Goddess of Thunder who didn’t wish to call down lightning upon her enemies? Yet that was her. Ishtar did not wish such painful deaths upon anyone, her most vile foes included.

So then why did she do this? Ishtar no longer remembered the reason. Perhaps there had never been one in the first place, save a willingness to obey.

“With all due respect, Princess Ishtar, I cannot accept that.” Olwen told her, worry showing through any attempt to disguise it. “You clearly haven’t rested lately, and my lord brother tells me you haven’t been eating well. You aren’t sick, are you? I should contact a healer right away, just in case-“

“No! No, I’m fine.” Ishtar said hurriedly. “I don’t need a healer. What afflicts me is nothing that can be healed by magic.” Looking Olwen straight in the eyes, she hesitated for a moment, before giving in. Nobody better to confide in than somebody with honor written all over them.”I am… saddened by all this. Nobody from the Manster District has ever wronged me, or anyone I know, yet over and over I make them suffer like this. I’m really quite cruel, aren’t I?” Painfully, she laughed, and it rang hollow to her ears.

“That’s not true at all!” Olwen shouted out, her fierce denial catching Ishtar by surprise and snapping her out of her emptiness. “You’re the kindest, most selfless, and beautiful Princess I’ve ever seen! We might never have talked before, but I can see it just from the way you carry yourself. You… are a really good person!”

Ishtar smiled in response, and looked away, out into the horizon. “You really think that’s true?”

“I know it’s true!” Olwen replied, as passionate as ever. “You must believe me, you don’t deserve to be feeling this sadness.”

“My, you say I  _ must _ believe you?” Ishtar grinned from amusement. “Quite cocky for a squire, aren’t you?”

Olwen went red in the face immediately, suddenly coming to remember her position. “I… er… forgive me, Princess Ishtar!”

“There is nothing to forgive, Olwen.” Ishtar said sincerely. “In fact, I think you even made me feel a bit better. Why don’t we head back now, like you suggested?”

“At once!” Olwen appeared to be relieved. Seeing that made Ishtar feel… happy. Not the sort of happy she felt when she beat Ishtore at sparring, or made father proud of her. It was a new sort of happiness, as warm as but distinct from the rest.

In this world, there was no such thing as love.

And yet, what else could possibly describe her feelings for Olwen?

—————————————————————

_ Jugdral, 778 _

Even in her wildest dreams, she had never thought that she would actually be defeated like this. Gasping for breath, she dropped to one knee before the Liberation Army, her soldiers all dead or dying around the battlefield. They had fought to the very end, but it seemed that they could not do anything to stop the advance of the Scion of Light.

With the exception of the Loptyrians, did anyone even want to do so anymore? Certainly not her brother Ishtore and cousin Tine, dear as always to her heart, who had nevertheless joined the Liberation Army and fought with those who had killed father and mother. What a confusing world this was, where the people she wanted to be safe more than anything fought each other to the death.

“Just end my life.” Ishtar spat, though perhaps it was a bit like a plea. “I can no longer hold you off. You’ve won. So why won’t any of you kill me?!”

“Just what kind of people do you take us for?” It was cousin Arthur who spoke, long lost cousin Arthur, who Aunt Tailtiu had occasionally spoken of with a distant look in her eyes. He kept his distance, but locked eyes with Ishtar, having determination in his own. “We aren’t monsters who kill needlessly. We’ve won, like you said. So why would we kill someone so dear to us?”

“I’m not dear to any of you, I shouldn’t be. I’m a monster, a real monster, for everything I’ve done. I-“

“You’re not a monster!” Tine exclaimed. Tine, dearest Tine, who for so long she had desperately sought to protect. Now, Tine was more than capable of protecting herself and others, as she showed time and time again. How the tables had turned. “You’re Ishtar, the one who used to play with me or comfort me when I was scared… Come back to us, please!”

“I can’t. It’s too late. I-“

“We’re a family, Ishtar. For us, it’s never too late to make things right.” This time, it was Ishtore who interrupted her self-pity, her one and only brother. He had always been a gentle but protective person, who hated as passionately as he loved. Always more willing to stand up to their mother than she, he possessed bravery just as much as she possessed sheer power. It was a quality of his that Ishtar had always envied. He walked forward, on an unsteady leg- he had been injured in this battle, she realized- and once he was in front of her, he flicked her in the forehead. “You’re silly, you know that? You’ll always be welcome among us, so don’t go forgetting it.”

“I-“ Ishtar began crying before she even knew it. “Why are you all so kind to me? All this time I’ve wasted, all these people I’ve killed, I don’t deserve it, any of it!”

“Don’t say that!” That was a voice that Ishtar recognized immediately. Olwen, younger sister of the late Reinhardt, who she had met when they were both just girls, now a woman in her own right. She ran forward, Ishtore only barely getting out of the way, and embraced Ishtar. “No matter what, you’re still that kind, beautiful princess I met that day. You aren’t evil at all! You deserve at least this much, so let us be kind to  _ you _ for once!” Before she knew it, she was returning Olwen’s hug, and the rest of the surviving Frieges joined in with gentle smiles upon their faces. “Thank you… Thank you all so much…”

That night, after having joined the Liberation Army in their march on Belhalla, she visited Olwen’s tent, having finally decided to do something she could be proud of. “Excuse me, Olwen, are you there?”

“Ah, of course, Princess Ishtar! Please, come in and tell me how I might help you.”

Ishtar shook her head. “It’s just ‘Ishtar’ now. The kingdom I was princess of no longer exists, and you’ve more than earned the right to call me by my name.”

“I… see. Ishtar, then.” Though it was difficult to see in the candlelight, Ishtar could have sworn Olwen blushed slightly. “How can I be of assistance?”

“I have a confession to make, you see. Something you of all people need to hear.” Ishtar took a deep breath, then continued, nearly shaking with nervousness despite everything. “I like girls. I’ve always liked girls, in truth. And most of all, I like… you.”

“Oh, Ishtar…” Now she was sure Olwen was blushing. Then again, Ishtar figured she must be blushing madly herself right now. “I love you too. I have since the day we met.” A hopeful moment of silence passed between the two of them. “Do you wish to make it official?”

“Not until the campaign is over.” Ishtar giggled. “I want to enjoy Ishtore’s shockto its fullest extent.”

Olwen laughed along with her, and when they were both done she leaned in, slowly, hesitantly, for a kiss. Closing her eyes, Ishtar let her press her lips to hers, and savored the moment.

At long last, she could let people down and not carry the weight of the world upon her shoulders. It was a liberating feeling. She had chosen to be Ishtar Tordos Friege and she loved it.

No longer would she live out somebody else’s ambitions.

Now she lived to be herself.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one is my favorite one yet. I can’t wait to show what I have planned for the fourth and final chapter.


	4. Bolt of Victory

_ Jugdral, 767 _

In the ancient myths of Jugdral, a prophecy foretold that a great demon of pure evil once banished would return to bring havoc upon the world in the year of 767, killing many and manipulating many more into obeying its every whim. In consideration of how so many terrible later events could be traced back to the events of this year, many thought that in the end it had indeed been something like that, though they hadn’t known it then.

For young Arthur in particular, the year 767 may as well have been exactly that apocalyptic, even at the time.

“Father… where are they?” He asked his father as they stood in front of their ransacked home, damaged by what appeared to be lightning strikes. “Where’s mother? Where’s Tine? Don’t tell me that they…” Arthur began to cry, not wanting to lose two of the most precious people to him at such a young age.

His father simply ruffled his hair with a sad smile and world-weary eyes. “It will be alright. Your mother and Tine are alive, I just know it. The people who did this… they definitely wanted them both alive.” When Arthur had calmed down some, his father instructed him to wait right there while he asked around the village.

Soldiers of the Grannvalean occupiers had burst into his family’s home in a remote village of Silesse while he and father were away distributing medicine to a nearby village, and had abducted mother and Tine, on account of mother being related to the Frieges, prominent leaders within the Empire, who had ‘betrayed’ the family along with the famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) Lord Sigurd. That was all that the soldiers had revealed to the villagers, but that was not the full story, as father revealed to him shortly after.

His father, Azelle, was actually a noble from House Velthomer, while his mother, Tailtiu, was similarly a noble of House Friege. They had been old friends who had both served in Lord Sigurd’s army years ago, during which time they had fallen in love. However, Sigurd’s campaign had ended in a great massacre at Belhalla, during which Azelle and Tailtiu fled for their lives into Silesse, to try and put the past behind them and live a new life. It seemed, however, that the past had caught up to them at long last, and Tine with them. While Arvis, the Emperor in Belhalla and father’s older brother, and therefore Arthur and Tine’s uncle, had been content to let his brother and his family be, the Frieges, his vassals, and especially the head of the house, Duke Bloom Friege, mother’s older brother, were a different story. They had long wanted to capture his sister for her betrayal of their father, or so the rumors said. He had long had Friege soldiers searching occupied Silesse for her, and when they finally found her, they found her with only Tine due to father agreeing to deliver medicines and taking Arthur with him. Unable to find Arthur, or perhaps ignorant of his very existence, they had left with only those two after a brief fight. 

Arthur had been spared their fate by pure chance.

How  _ lucky  _ he was.

Unable to handle these revelations at so young of an age, Arthur fled suddenly from his father with tears streaming down his cheeks. Azelle reached out to stop him at first, but ultimately pulled his hand back. Ultimately, more than anything, what Arthur needed was to be alone. Trying to talk to him after this, after his life’s course had been irrevocably altered, might only make things worse.

He ran, and ran, and ran, until his tiny legs couldn’t run anymore, ending up on top of a snowy hill overlooking the village. Trying to catch his breath, his hands on his knees, he finally looked up to try and figure out where he was. The sight that immediately greeted him, however, was of a young girl around his age reaching for him out of concern, her hair a distinctive light purple, lighter even than his own. “Are you alright?” She asked him, an unusual power that he couldn’t quite place at the edges of her voice. “Daddy said that if anyone was hurt I should tell them to go to the village.”

“Nah, I’m not hurt.” Arthur quickly assured her. “Just tired from running from my dad, that’s all.”

That made the girl frown, for some reason. “Why were you running from your dad? Was he trying to hurt you? Is he a bad man?”

Realizing his mistake, Arthur shook his head fervently. “No, no! My dad’s a great guy, he really is! It’s just… well, we found out my mom and sis got taken away by some mean people, and…” Then his father had told him the truth, the truth about  _ everything _ , but it was such a dangerous truth. Arthur hesitated. Could he really risk telling this strange girl? Something made him feel like she was worth trusting, though. Deciding to put faith in that strange feeling, if nothing else, he continued. “And then my dad told me he’s from some family called ‘Velthomer’ over in this place called Grannvale, while mom is from a family called ‘Friege.’ I didn’t understand a whole lot but apparently the Friege family didn’t like my mom for some reason and took her away this morning. So I just… had to leave, you know?” No need to say that he’d been crying so hard he didn’t want to keep talking to his father right then.

“I see…” The girl murmured. “I don’t know why, but I feel like I can relate to that. My name is Julia, by the way. What’s yours?”

“Oh, my name is Arthur!” He grinned and extended his hand to her, causing her to switch between staring at it and at him curiously. “Ah, do you not know what a handshake is? It’s when you place your hand in somebody else’s and shake it. Like this!” He took one of Julia’s hands with both of his own, startling her, and shook it energetically. “Nice to meet you, Julia! Let’s be friends!”

As soon as he let go, Arthur felt behind him the most chilling presence he had ever felt. “Just  _ what _ do you think you’re doing with her?” It was a cold voice, not a necessarily evil one but containing in it no warmth to spare. Arthur jumped upon hearing it and whipped around, throwing an arm out as if to protect Julia. The man who stood there, glaring down at him with eyes that seemed to shimmer like the wind, had long, dark green hair that covered one of his eyes and went down to his upper back. An unbelievable amount of power seemed to come from him.

For the second time that day, Arthur felt incredibly afraid, this time for himself.

“Daddy, wait!” Julia got out from behind him, waving for the man to stop. “He was just trying to be my friend! His name’s Arthur!”

That made the intense feeling the man gave off suddenly stop. “...Arthur, you say? No, that couldn’t be… but that hair!” As he mumbled to himself, Arthur and Julia looked at each other confused. Finally, the man kneeled down to Arthur’s level and extended a hand. “You have my apologies for how I acted. My name is Lewyn, and this is my daughter Julia. I am but a humble bard, though I’m skilled enough in wind magic when I need to be.” That was an understatement to be sure, but Arthur didn’t dare call him out on it. “The thing is… I believe I know your parents. Where are they?”

At that, Arthur’s face paled. “Dad’s back in the village but mom is…” He explained once again what his dad had explained to him about the situation, or at least what he could remember of it. As he explained, he noticed that there was little sadness in Lewyn’s eyes, only full attention to Arthur. Strange, for somebody who said he had known mother. “...And that just about covers it. How do you know mom and dad though? Were you part of Sigurd’s army too?”

Again, little reaction from Lewyn. “Perhaps I was, perhaps I wasn’t. It matters little now. Several years have passed since that time. That aside, would you mind taking me to see your father?”

Though Arthur was a little annoyed at how easily his question had been brushed off, he instead focused on the more serious concern. “I don’t know, how do I know you’re not just another one of those Frieges who wants to hurt him?” The words came out more bitter than he had intended, a reflection of his grief.

“If I were a Friege, I would have abducted you already, would I not?” Lewyn questioned.

“Abd- what?”

Now Lewyn seemed much more tired than before. “Alright, let me put it this way. The Frieges want you just like they wanted your mother. The fact that I haven’t taken you means I’m not one of them.” He paused a moment before adding more. “And besides, it’s just a personal curiosity, so it’s fine if you don’t want to.”

“Oh! That makes sense. Sure, mister, I’ll take you there.”

“You have my thanks.”

After leading Lewyn back towards the village, then into the village to reach home, Arthur knocked on the door of his house. “Hey dad! There’s this visitor here for you! Says his name is Lewyn.”

Arthur had never heard his dad rush so fast to open a door in his life. “Lewyn?!” He gasped. “I thought…”

“That I was dead?” Lewyn managed a thin smile. “I, for one, find that a little difficult to believe.”

“I’m glad to see you alive and well. What brings you here, though? Have you come to take back Selisse?”

“There are two reasons. One, I was feeling… sentimental, I guess you would say.” Lewyn’s face suddenly hardened after saying that. “And two, to deliver a warning.”

“A warning?” Azelle sounded sad and incredibly exhausted. “If it’s about what I think it is, you’re too late.”

Realizing what Azelle meant, Lewyn shook his head. “No, not that. Times are only growing darker for Jugdral, Azelle. Eventually, there won’t be a person from Verdane to Isaach not miserable under its boot.”

With a frown, Azelle tilted his head to the side. “So what are you suggesting that I do?”

“Train Arthur in the use of powerful magic. He could be a powerful asset in the effort to end the suffering of so many.”

Although Azelle clearly disliked the idea, he simply nodded and bid Lewyn farewell rather than try to argue against what he knew to be a just decision.

That night, Arthur began to train to wield tomes. For the next decade, he would continue this practice, becoming an undeniably strong mage.

And when, years later in the Liberation Army, Arthur saw Julia and Lewyn again, she did not recognize him, while he simply ignored any questions about that day. Although they had played such a large part in his life, he had been but falling snow in their minds.

—————————————————————

_ Jugdral, 778 _

Mother was avenged.

She was avenged, all these years later, yet he had been too late to save her.

Bloom lay dying before him, body thoroughly seared by fire and lightning, gasping for breath. With a heavy sigh, Arthur kneeled at his uncle’s side, although it made the pain of his wounds worse. There was just something he had to know before Bloom died. “Why couldn’t she have lived, uncle?” He didn’t need to specify who the ‘she’ was. “For what reason did mother die?”

Bloom only chuckled, and Arthur, frustrated, punched the man in the gut, making him wheeze. “Answer me!”

“There is no point in me making excuses, or expecting your forgiveness. I’m not the sort of man who will meet Naga when I die.” Bloom spoke calmly, the very picture of a man who knows his death is assured. “That is, however… my only regret. I failed to protect my sister, I failed to earn the respect of my son, and I failed to protect my liege from the schemes of the Loptyrians. At least, if nothing else, I managed to protect Tine… you’re a good big brother, Arthur, much better than I ever was. Please make sure that this family can find some happiness… in the end…” His eyes seemed to be desperately pleading at this point, searching for some sign of acceptance of this request by his nephew.

“I will. In spite of everything you’ve done, I can promise you that much.” Arthur vowed, meeting Bloom’s eyes with his own. “Now go meet whatever fate awaits you on the other side.”

“Thank… you…” With a contented smile on his face, the light in Bloom’s eyes quickly faded, and his head went limp on the ground.

In spite of his injuries Arthur stood up, and walked slowly, unsteadily, over to the green haired boy waiting at the entrance of the room. “What a headache. Seems like I’m going to have to save both of my annoying cousins. Who are you, anyway?”

“My name is Ced, a simple magefrom Silesse. That man… he was terrible, but it seems he had more regrets than I had thought.” Ced stepped out of the way and put Arthur’s arm around his shoulder. Although he raised an eyebrow, Arthur made no effort to stop him, not that he had the energy to succeed. “I recently joined Lord Seliph’s Liberation Army, while you were busy leading the attack on Conote. I was planning to head here and end his life myself, but it seems you beat me to it. Lucky him, I suppose. I would’ve done worse.”

That made Arthur chuckle. “You would have, huh? You know, Ced, I think we’re going to get along wonderfully. That is, if you’re as good as you say you are.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge?” A smirk on his face, Ced’s eyes lit up.

“Might be, once I get healed up. I think even my toes hurt just from existing.” Arthur replied only half-jokingly.

“Ah, right. I should get you back to Lana.”

“Please do, this is so not the way I want to die.”

“And just how do you want to die?” Ced asked, looking down at Arthur next to him.

“In the snows of Silesse, surrounded by those I love.” That made Ced smile, and for a second Arthur thought he might be harboring a similar feeling. Time to mess with him then. “That is, only if I’m also being held in the arms of a green-haired Silessian mage-“ At exactly that point, Ced dropped him onto the ground, and Arthur curled into a ball, cradling his nose. “Ow… well you’re no fun.”

“Maybe. You deserved it, though.” As he picked Arthur back up, Ced smiled slightly. “After we win the war… let’s go visit Silesse together.”

“You know, I think we really should be friends. That sounds like an amazing idea.” Arthur glanced over at Ced, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. “You’ve got to be careful, though. If you keep showing me kindness like that, I might end up falling for you, you know?”

“Oh, no.” Though he rolled his eyes, Ced was starting to blush too. “You’ve become delusional from blood loss. We need to pick up the pace.”

As it would turn out, Ced was not simply a simple mage from Silesse, but rather its Crown Prince.

It also so happened that, having indeed fallen in love, a year later amid the snows of Silesse, they finally married.

Once again his luck had struck, and he would not have had it any other way.

—————————————————————

_ Jugdral, 780 _

At long last, the family was back together again.

After his inheritance of the Friege and Velthomer Dukedoms, and his marriage to the newly crowned King of Silesse, Arthur had called for a dinner to be shared by the remaining members of the Friege family (as well as Julia) to the newly repaired Friege castle, so that they all could, at least one last time, enjoy each other’s company.

First came Ishtore and Liza, along with their newborn baby daughter, who they had named Tailtiu with Arthur and Tine’s blessing. Arthur appreciated them doing that, he really did it; it was a beautiful way of honoring his mother’s memory and he was sure that, were she still with them, mother would approve as well. In fact, as he would never have biological children of his own, and didn’t plan to adopt, Arthur intended to leave both duchies to the girl when he passed, so long as she had any desire to rule them.

Next came Tine and Fee atop the pegasus Mahnya, soaring down to the castle gate. Fee had given him a big hug and practically talked his ear off after landing; Tine, always the more reserved one, kept quiet for the most part, but she stared lovingly at the ever energetic Fee. They truly were a match made in the heavens, or, at least, in the clouds. Arthur always had thought it rather funny that Tine had fallen in love with Fee just as he had fallen in love with Ced, each of the pairs of siblings finding love with one of the other on the battlefield.

Then came Ishtar and Olwen on horseback, having spent much time traveling Thracia together, trying to help King Leif and Queen Nanna undo some of the damage that the two had done to the land and people. Both knew there were some sins that might never be forgiven, but that was the thing with seeking redemption: they had to at the very least try. After their arrival, they rarely let go of each other’s hands, both never able to get enough of the warmth they had both kept hidden for so long.

Finally, last but not least, Ced, Azelle, and Julia arrived, with the former two having picked up the latter from Belhalla, where she now served as a royal advisor, along the way. Arthur’s father was of course overjoyed to see him, hugging him close and telling him that he was so proud of him and that his mother definitely was too. For her part, Julia had finally remembered that time they had met when they were little, and together the cousins reminisced, thinking about what incredible turns their lives had taken. Finally, there was Ced, who leaned down slightly- that always made Arthur a little mad, but at the same time it  _ was _ very attractive and Ced knew it- to kiss his husband. When they broke apart, they continued standing together, hands on each other’s shoulders, staring with adoration into each other’s eyes, until finally somebody called for Arthur and they had to break apart. Even so, they walked hand in hand, their bond unbreakable and their love unshakeable.

Also gathered at the table were the remaining generals of Friege, such as Amalda, Fred, Paulus, and Largo, distinguished commanders every one of them. Despite all their scars suffered, the horrors they had witnessed, now they had the same peaceful smiles on their faces as everyone else. With war past, although sad memories would always remained, newer, happier memories could be created to coexist with them.

Yes, this was the sort of world Arthur had wanted all along.

There remained only three empty seats among them. One, for Duke Bloom, who for all his crimes had good intentions, and whose request that Arthur protect the family may well have saved Ishtar’s life. The second, for Hilda, even in spite of everything, for she too had been a Friege in the end, her death giving her children mixed emotions even if Ishtore would never admit it. The third and final one was for Reinhardt, a truly honorable man who had been the very example of a mage knight, and had protected the honor of the Friege House until the moment of his death. Perhaps their fates had been inevitable, perhaps not. What was important was that they were remembered now when it mattered, not left to the past.

With everyone finally gathered and their food in front of them, Arthur raised his wine glass above his head. “A toast,” He declared. “To the success of Friege.”

“To the success of Friege!” Everyone cheered.

Perhaps this wasn’t a perfect world, but it never really had been.

All that was ever needed for happiness in it was a family that cared for and protected each other.

In the end, that was what they had all accomplished, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end of it! I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave any kind thoughts you have in the comments.

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this fic is in line with my headcanon that each kingdom of Jugdral is tied to a real world language (i.e. Agustrians speak French, Grannvaleans speak German, and so forth). It might not end up actually featuring but for greater immersion I write these while imagining that.


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